Rewriting – an anecdote

First drafts. Generally, when I write a first draft, I don’t want or expect it to be perfect. I like to see some of the real story buried in there somewhere, a shape I can work with, some vague form of my original vision. But now I’m almost finished with the fourth rewrite of my novel Shatterbox, and it’s still not there.

I’ve stuck with it all this time because I know it’s a good story. Perhaps a great story. And in the process, I think I’ve come to look at rewrites differently.

I’ve heard people say that the first draft is for getting ideas down on paper, and later drafts are for molding the actual story. That’s what I did for this novel. My current rewrite is a swarm of ideas, possibilities, and continuity issues. I feel like someone went shopping for all the paint they could find, and went crazy with it. It’s a mess. It’s an exhausting mess. But at least I began painting.

Previous drafts have been all about choosing my brushes and gathering the colors. This time, I cracked open the cans and started smearing stuff around. I was hoping to find the shape, but dangit, it’s out there.

I’ve experimented as much as I can. I’ve dumped all the paint and I’ve mushed it around. I’ve gotten out all my ideas. Now it’s time to begin gathering the pieces, sorting through what works, and what doesn’t. When I’m done I may actually see the real shape of my novel. I don’t think it will be pretty, but it will be a good prototype.

This has been a tough time for me with this novel, and I’m anxious to hear what you guys think – have you ever gone through this before? Is it good to view this as a time of creative-unfettering, or am I just lying to myself, finding more excuses to keep rewriting?

 

-Creative A 

On a sidenote, I wanted to apologize for not posting last Wednesday. We had some bad weather and the internet was down for a couple of days. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

A Thought on Cycles

I’ve noticed that during the course of writing novels, I go through a cycle. Many writers seem to have similar cycles: there’s the point of conception, the drama and inspiration as you start a new book. This gives way slowly to a realization that things aren’t as they should be.

Ideas aren’t working together anymore, story threads are fraying, characters haven’t been fully realized. The momentum lags. The novel staggers. You, the writer, plod. Then – oh joy! – a breakthrough. You do good for a while, then let yourself go. The novel sags; you push hard to fix it.

I’ve also noticed a bigger type of cycle, one that spans my entire writing career. I seem to be caught in this epic struggle between improving the quality of my writing, which leads to inner-editor madness and eventual long-terms of writer’s block; and between improving the quantity of my writing, which gets me plenty of books, but none that are worthy of publication. It’s frustrating because I feel like I’m covering the same ground over and over.

Despite all this I sense an upward trend. When I track my high points and my low points, I notice that the highs are always a little greater than last time, and the lows aren’t quite so low. I think this is due to two things: the sheer passage of time, and also, my real growth as a writer.

Being a novelist is discouraging. You struggle to get published. If you are published, you struggle to stay published. It seems that our failures outrank our successes. But hey. It’s a cycle. I understand that you’re blocked again, that it’s been on and off like this for the past three months, that this is where you were last year – it’s a big cycle. Big cycles just take more time.

Be honest, now. Are you giving yourself that time?

- Creative A 

Yet another anecdote about writing crap

Sometimes you have to allow yourself to write badly - Bird By Bird, paraphrased

Novels are my main love. That said, a writer has to earn bread somehow, and so I’ve been doing a bit of journalism for a local paper. One thing I learned is that every piece does not have to be perfect, specifically when the deadline is tomorrow and you’re out of coffee. People don’t really expect their work to be perfect, but I think the unconscious drive is still there. Do better. Be better. Better better better.

Fun story: one night I’d been working on a piece for hours. I could not get the lead to match up with the body. I’d fiddled with that lead for two days. It wasn’t getting any better. In general, if I can do more, I’m not satisfied until I’ve done the most I can. But that time I stopped myself. I realized I’d done the best I could – for that piece.

It was an “ah-hah” moment. If something is at it’s best – even if that means it’s at its worst – you haven’t failed. You aren’t sucking. You aren’t refusing to grow. You’re writing because you’re a writer and sometimes, writers suck. In a way, you’ve still done the best you can.

It’s the same for writing crap. You acknowledge that you can do better, but for whatever reason, it’s the best you can do for this scene and this day. You’ll take a second pass on the next draft. That simple. If it means letting a piece suck, well, sucky is the best it can be.

How do all of you feel about this? Have you come to similar conclusions? I think that each person finds their own ways of saying the same basic things. How do you reason with yourself when it comes to writing crap? 

-Creative A

The Art of Writing Crap: an Anecdote

As a writer, I’m sure you’ve heard that a first draft is supposed to suck. Sure, there are those rare individuals that write finished drafts (cough me cough), but the general consensus is that those people are rare, and the average Joe shouldn’t focus on churning out perfect scenes. The average Joe should write. Just write. The theory behind this is that it’s easier to revise 500 crappy words than it is write 500 perfect words. It makes sense. Everyone knows how daunting a blank page can be.

So no matter how awful it is, how much it makes you cringe—just get those words out there.
Well. That’s all good and fine expect for this one minor fact: I’m a borderline perfectionist. As such, it’s my duty to write my best. Always. Without exception.

I always thought the practice of “write crap now and edit later” an interesting one, but it didn’t work for me, so I didn’t try to develop it. Until Something Happened. Over the past few months, I’d noticed that the better the quality of my writing, the lower my wordcount.* That didn’t bother me until my wordcount fell below 500 words per day. What did this mean? Was there some way to counter-act it? Had others gone through this experience?

I went to my favorite forum, “Absolute Write,” and created a thread about the topic. The user Pup posted a reply that really stuck out:

“…There’s still a balance point at which I have to tell myself: I need to get my words for the day done, so I'll just write crap for a paragraph or two to get through this part, and then edit it at the end of today or tomorrow.

So maybe letting yourself writing crap on a limited basis would help. Not page after page, but just a line or two where you're stuck, or a paragraph or two, and then mark it and go on, and fix it as soon as possible.”

I’d never tried that before. Somehow, the idea was revolutionary. Write a sucky sentence, just to get myself started? Could I do that? Was I allowed?

I’d particularly been dreading the next scene in my WIP. It was a notorious “transfer” scene, something to get my story from point A to point B. I had no clue how to start it without making it suck. But if I couldn’t avoid it, why not give the “writing crap” maxim a try? With Pup’s advice in mind, I sat in front of the blank page and wrote the crappiest first sentence that I could think of:

“Leigh went outside.”

Man, that was awful. I chewed my lip in distress. A moment later, I typed on.

“She moved towards her car, the air thick with the smell of chlorine and freshly cut grass. Her shoes clopped over the walkway. Her phone buzzed, and she tilted her hip up to check the caller ID.”

I read it, contemplating. There were some good sensory details in there. I actually liked the part about Leigh’s shoes clopping. Maybe this could work.

So I wrote the scene. It flowed without any hiccups, and reading it over afterwards, I it was a lot better than I had anticipated. What about that notorious beginning? I edited it in 20 minutes, no sweat.

Lesson learned?

Sort of. I still don’t like the idea of writing lower quality. It grates my insides. But now I know it works, and sooner or later I’ll be frustrated enough to try it again.

My question to all of you is: what's your experience with writing crap?

-Creative A

Psst: Interested about my quality vs. quantity problem? I'll post more next Wednesday.